One Day
by anotherholpessromantic
Summary: With Quinn dead Rachel finds herself wishing for one more day to revel in what could have been. What happens when an unexpected ally grants her wish. Faberry, Pezberry friendship and some of Sue Sylvester's craziness
1. Just One Day

**Author's Note:** have been inspired by everything Faberry! And I was happy to be a sideline fanfic reader until the cluster fuck that was 3x15/3x16. I wont embarress myself by posting anymore chapters unless you want them so make sure to let me know what you think!

**Chapter One: Just One Day**

It's been nine days since my wedding. It was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. But now I just remember it as the day I discovered what heartbreak really was. One simple call from the police and Sue Sylvester (because of course Sylvester would have 'spies' working for her in the police force), shattered me in a way I still can't comprehend.

"It's Quinn."

Those two words ruined me. They gripped at my skin and pulled it in every direction, like it was trying to rip me open and crawl underneath. I knew in that moment that she was gone, that I had lost her forever. And what makes that fact grate on my conscience a little bit harder is realising that she was never mine to lose in the first place.

Quinn was never mine. I had no claim on the woman, which really means that I don't have a right to be mourning like I am. I saw more composure from her mother during the funeral than anyone else in attendance, and if anyone had a right to grieve it would be Judy Fabray – she screwed up her relationship with Quinn just as much as I did. One could even look upon my behaviour as disrespectful to those who actually knew Quinn, but if I am being completely honest... I simply don't give a shit.

I will mourn for the woman that meant so much more to me than what I would care to admit. She was the voice in my head, constantly challenging me, always expecting better of me and I loved her for it. Just her presence used to elicit a reaction from me. She gave me such strength, such conviction to fight through the hell hole of high school and I never understood that until she died.

I understand so much about her now and it makes me sick. Sick in the fact that I chose to ignore her. I knew that there was more to our relationship than a 'kind of' friendship. And now I have to live knowing that I caused the heartbreak I am now consumed by. That this rotting feeling is all my own doing, and frankly... I welcome it.

I hope it kills me. It's the least I deserve.

I'm shocked out of my reverie when I feel my knees bending. It appears that in my state of self indulgence I sought out the auditorium. My place of solitude. I can fill the space with my heartbreak, not having to worry about being judged or facing the wrath of Santana and I find a small slither of comfort in that. I feel my lips tweak gently at that thought, Quinn would have liked that.

My fingers slide along ivory keys, they're cold. I used to like feeling the chill run up my fingertips, but I've been cold for nine days and I don't know how much more I can take. This feeling, it's flowing through my bloodstream with a vengeance. It's rotting away at me. I am certain that Hades himself could not sear me with a greater pain than the one I am feeling now.

But this is my punishment, a gruesome reminder of what could have been.

I don't know how long I've been sitting here. I could be minutes or days. I don't know. I don't care. But I am of sound enough mind to hear his lugging steps making their way up the aisle of the auditorium; the irony is not lost on me. Finn. Nine days ago I cherished the sight of my fiancé. But now, just knowing that I am sharing the same space as him makes my skin crawl. I can almost feel bile rising up my throat.

He is what I'm choosing to blame. He blinded me, made me some naive school girl that got swept up by the idea of high school sweethearts. He never wanted New York. He wants Burt's crappy tire shop. He was going to let me sabotage my dreams for Lima. I know that it's not fair for me to cast all the blame on Finn, and deep down I know I don't hate him. But right now, in this moment, to aid my grief... I hate him.

I hate him so completely that I'm almost shocked.

"Rach."

He's closer than I thought.

"Are you still not talking to me?"

I haven't talked to him in nine days, why would I want to start now?

"Rachel. I can't fix this if you don't tell me what's wrong."

I watch him walk around the piano so that he can see my face. For some reason he takes the small smile tugging at my lips as a good sign. I'm just smiling because he actually got something right for once: he can't fix this.

"Look I know with Quinn dying and stuff it's been hard for you but I think it's time to start moving on. You need to heal Rach."

And my whisper of a smile is gone. There is no healing from this.

"I miss my fiancé and I still wanna get married to you Rach. I know that with the whole Quinn-dying-thing we had to call it off, but...but maybe if we start re-planning it...it could take your mind off it. Ya know?"

And I hate myself a little bit more. How could I have not seen how wrong Finn is and how right Quinn could have been?

I take a deep breath and look at him. Really look at him. Sure he's attractive, in that dopey school boy sort of a look. But he's so tall. Too tall even. He doesn't challenge me, he never did and he never will. He doesn't even remember that I'm vegan...or Jewish! Quinn knew all of that stuff, she didn't even have to try and she knew.

I let out a breath of expired air and drop my gaze to my hands. I can see the mediocre engagement ring he brought me – doesn't look nearly as fantastic as it did nine days ago. With a gentle tug I finally free my finger from the burden and place the ring on top of the piano. I square my jaw, tighten my shoulders, harden my eyes and stare up at my ex-fiancé.

"Now fuck off." It's the first words I have spoken to him since Quinn died and I intend them to be the last.

I watch his face contort immediately. He finally seems to have grasped what is happening. I watch as he screams and yells and looks around for chairs to kick but I block it all out. My investment in this interaction has expired so I just sit back and wait until he wears himself out. It doesn't take as long as I thought it would. But as I hear his heavy feet stomp up the aisle and exit the auditorium I feel nothing but relief. This moment is the happiest I have been in the last nine days.

I smile again. Quinn would have liked seeing that.

I'm still in the auditorium, I don't even know if there are still people at school. If there are, they must know I'm in here. It's become an unspoken rule that nobody is to talk to Rachel Berry...ever. Santana's the only one ballsy enough to try and I actually do listen, but I never have anything to say back. I think she gets it though.

Yesterday, she came and sat with me. She brought me lunch too. And she told me that if Brittany had died instead of Quinn then she would be in the exact same state. I don't know why, but that little bit of information brought me more comfort than anything else in the last nine days.

I feel my fingers playing a familiar chord. It's all I've been playing since she died and I find myself wishing that in some alternate universe this song could come true. That I could love Quinn, simply just love her. I smile at the thought and let the song fall softly from my mouth.

_In another life  
I would be your girl  
We'd keep all our promises  
Be us against the world_

_In another life_  
_I would make you stay_  
_So I don't have to say_  
_You were the one that got away_  
_The one that got away_

I stop as my throat closes up. Sobs rip through me, just like they've been doing since she died. This is all I know now. I have desperate songs of hope, of one more day to truly take in the essence of Quinn Fabray and I know I'll never get it.

"The past is like a handful of dust. It filters through your fingers, disappearing little by little. I wish, for one day, I could go back. In another life I would do things a different way."

I hear those words cut through my sobs and I sober instantly. Whipping around from my piano chair I see Sue Sylvester in all her tracksuit glory sitting in the front row of the auditorium. I watch as she stands slowly and makes her way up to the stage. She hasn't taken her eyes off of me and I can't seem to look away. This is one of those moments when you can feel the air crackling with greatness, like something big is about to happen. I always wanted my own great moment, but now that it's actually happening... I'm scared.

"It's a good song Rachel."

I just nod. What else was I supposed to do?

"Do you mean it?"

I nod again. Of course I mean it. To see Quinn again, feel Quinn, actually make Quinn mine. I would sell my soul to the devil for one more day with her.

"And you're in love with her."

It's not a question but I feel myself nodding anyway. I'm pretty sure that over the last nine days everyone has deduced that I was...am head of hells in love with Quinn Fabray.

"And you want one more day with her?"

I go to nod again but feel a frown pull at my face.

"I want forever with her."

"I can't give you forever Rachel. That is well above my pay grade...but I can give you one day."

Is this actually happening? Sue Sylvester promising me one more day with Quinn Fabray. A girl that has been dead for over a week. Maybe I've gone crazy in my grief and this is all a figment of my imagination.

"Coach Sylvester, if this is some sick joke or a hallucination I would very much like to be left alone to grieve."

I go to turn back to the piano but the smile of Sue's face halts my action and all of a sudden I believe her.

"This is neither of those things Rachel. I am offering you twenty four hours to be with Quinn, you were robbed of such a beautiful thing and you deserve an answer to your what-could-have-been."

I know I'm about to become a masochist but once again... I don't really give a shit. I nod, stand up from the piano stool and make my way to where Sue is standing.

"Twenty four hours Rachel. No more. No less."

I smile and nod.

Then nothing.


	2. Quinn and Rachel

**Author's Note: Here comes some Faberry bonding, a not nearly long enough appearance of Snix and some Sue Sylvester baby-crazy. Let me know what you think!  
**

**Next Chapter (if you so wish): A warning from Santana and some alone time for Faberry.  
**

**Chapter Two: Quinn and Rachel**

Coming from nothing to something is a peculiar feeling.

It's like when your foot gets pins and needles after being numb, and as I feel the sensation creep from my toes to my legs I try to keep my body as rigid as possible. I have no idea what Sylvester has planned, for all I know I could come into consciousness standing on the freeway butt naked, or worse... being naked with Finn.

No, even Sylvester isn't that evil.

I shake the though from my mind when I start to hear whispers of white noise buzzing in my ears, it sounds like a soft melody. If only I could make out the song then maybe I could figure out when it is that I'm going to be. But the music comes to a resounding halt, I'm encased by silence, it's haunting almost. Like I'm being prepared for whatever I'm about to see and hear.

I focus and strain my ears to pick up even the smallest whisper of noise. Nothing... and then something. Its voices, or a voice, it's too hard to tell. The words are coming out in a broken string of sentences that don't entirely make sense. I lock onto the deepest tone I can single out and wait until the words start to come together.

"Thank...never happened...support...drama...here hating..."

I felt the numbing tingle reach my neck, it was almost over. God please let it almost be over. My vocal chords were vibrating in protest, screaming for me to move, to make it stop but I clenched the muscles in my body together. I fluttered my eyelids instead. I was not moving from my position no matter how at threat my precious voice may be. I forced my concentration elsewhere, back to the rich alto that was slowly giving sense to words again.

"Without all those...dream...my future."

Wait.

"I was the only one standing in the way of myself."

No.

I can't do this now. I can't see her alive yet. I'm not ready to see her standing in front of me.

Talking.

Breathing.

Pleading with me through a veil of unshed tears in her beautiful hazel eyes.

Practically telling me that she's in love with me.

That my dreams are worth something, something more than a shitty high school boyfriend.

"You can't change you past... But you can let go and start your future."

I feel my head sag and my bottom lip catch between my teeth. The last coherent though that runs through my mind before I am jolted into my promised twenty-four hours with my living-breathing Quinn is that maybe Sue Sylvester is more evil than I ever gave her credit for.

I lift my gaze slowly, flickering it up to where I know she is. I catch a glimpse of her honey coloured hair before I flick my eye lids down quickly. I have to try and ease myself into this otherwise I'm going to scare her or get myself admitted for being borderline crazy. I take a strong breath through my nose and pinch my arm until I know it will bruise. You know, just to be sure.

And then I'm looking at her again and I can't look away.

She's encased in glee, quite literally. I watch as Santana gives her a subtle kiss on her cheek and nuzzles her nose into Quinn's neck, I see Puck ruffle her choppy hair affectionately, Brittany's trying to sway the group in some kind of slow motion jive and Quinn giggles affectionately at her friend's attempt. Those are the only people I take notice of, they're the only ones that truly matter to Quinn. Every other body in this room is simply getting in the way of my view of her.

I catch her hazel eyes in my stare and feel myself get sucked in. I have never felt such an inexplicable need for another thing, let alone another person. Not even my need to break out into song at any opportunity comes close to this want that has turned my breathing into a shallow mess.

I want her flesh in my hands, I want her skin molded to mine, I want her blood and bones to move under me, I want her voice to whisper sweet everything's into my mouth, her thoughts, her pulse, her dreams, I want it all. But if I'm being honest, soul-baring type honest then I want her fingerprints...everywhere. Not just on me, but on the world and the people she loves. Quinn Fabray is an experience and the world needs her to be in it, I need her to be in it.

She must see something in my gaze because I can almost feel the soft sheen of tears take up those hazel beauty's again. I watch as her jaw unhinges slightly and she sucks back a lungful of air. Then she's ducking her head to the right and whispering in Santana's ear and in thirty seconds Snix has everyone evacuated from the choir room courtesy of one of her famous Spanish outbursts.

And we're alone.

I'm alone in a room, most probably been guarded by Satan herself with the woman I helped to bury only nine days ago. The love that could-have-been my life is biting her lip in a lop-sided smile and is shooting me shy glimpses that ooze of adoration and longing.

I want to bask in my love for her, shoot her shy glances of want and lust and finally take her into my arms like I should have years ago. But I can't. I don't even think I'm capable of body movement. I am so angry. So fucking angry that this angel of a woman was taken from this world because of my stupid fucking wedding to a stupid fucking douche bag.

I watch Quinn duck her head to the floor and shuffle on the spot; she must have noticed my darkening mood.

"Look...Rach. I'm sorry if I over stepped but I can't just sit around and watch you marry Finn Hudson."

She shoots her gaze back up to me and I feel my anger slip away like it had never even existed. A gentle tear stretches down her cheek and she shrugs her shoulders lightly as if to say "there, now you know."

And just like that I'm on my feet and launching myself at her. Fuck self control, being a borderline crazy is much more rewarding if it means being closer to Quinn. And then I am, suddenly closer to her than I have ever been before.

I claw at her shoulders and jump unforgivingly until my legs are wrapped soundly around her hips. I feel her body sway beneath me as she steadies herself but I don't care because Quinn Fabray's breasts are pressed tightly against mine. I can feel her chest rising rapidly against me and the straining of her nipples are like whispers of promise touching my own. I feel her stomach quiver and it makes my thighs clench harder against her hip bone. I find her neck with my face and nuzzle into everything that is Quinn Fabray, the gentle essence of vanilla welcomes me like a long lost lover and I burrow further into my new favourite place.

Her head turns slowly so that her chin rests softly against the outline of my jaw; it's such an intimate and loving gesture so I'm not surprised when I feel the first of my tears begin to fall. Then the final piece of the puzzle falls into place when I feel her hands come up to support me, one tucked chivalrously under my thigh and the other running up and down my back, holding me close and making sure that I won't fall.

I let a gentle moan escape from my throat when I realise that she's always being making sure that I won't fall.

* * *

I have no idea how long we've been standing here, me clinging to Quinn like a ridiculous Koala bear, not that she's complained or anything. She's actually been humming softly against my jaw and it's been the closest thing to absolute bliss I think I have ever experienced.

But as I feel her legs dip slowly against the backs of my thighs as she sits herself down on the piano stool (I'm still refusing to let her go), I realise that maybe we have been standing in the middle of the choir room for a ridiculously long amount of time.

"Sorry." I mumble softly into her neck, my lips never once removing themselves from her skin as I utter the words.

I feel her shiver.

"It's fine. It's just... I've always wanted to do this, I mean not this as in _that_. I mean I do want that...ahh I mean I don't think that this is going to turn into that..." Then she huffs.

I pull back and watch as she closes her eyes and tries to gain some composure or some proper words, one or the other will do.

She flicks her eyes back open and when she sees me watch her she turns a pretty shade of pink and goes to duck her head softly. I catch her chin with my hand and hold her gaze gently; it seems to tell her what she needs because she takes a deep breath and opens her glorious mouth again.

"I just meant that I have always wanted to sit with you...like this. Pressed together and just... _being_."

It catches my breath, the words she says. I marvel at her and I instantly need more of an explanation.

"Why me?" It's a fair question I think, but maybe not by the playful snort I get in response.

I mean she's Quinn Fabray. She sees the world through the beautiful lenses of poetry and the snapshots of fine art. Her old soul is filled to the brim with old romance films and cups of tea, she has a love affair with a long forgotten record and marvels at words strung together on a page. She is just so absolute in her being that I can't quiet fathom how I will ever match up.

But then she nudges her shoulder gently against my face and forces me from my favourite place so that she can look at my face. She studies me for a quiet moment, inches a smidgen closer and delivers a whispered secret against my lips that contains the answer I am looking for.

"Because we're Quinn and Rachel"

And it all makes sense.

I remember that I sing my own harmonies and that I love Broadway to the point of obsession. I ramble too much and love too hard. I have watched Funny Girl two hundred and twenty three times and counting. I wear glasses when I'm at home and I bake bacon despite the fact that I am a vegan. I am in Quinn's eyes, as immeasurable as she is in mine.

We just are.

We fit with one another in perfect harmony and clash beautifully all in one sift motion.

We are Quinn and Rachel and as I breathe her in I struggle to think of a moment that would be more perfect that this.

But then I think that perhaps a lifetime with her may come close.

* * *

Watching from the back windows of the choir room, perched on a human period containing Santana and Brittany, a stealth Sue Sylvester adorned in a camo-styled tracksuit almost lets a smile slip from her lips.

Tubers and Streisand. It always did seem to fit.

Luckily the mediocrity of her very own Ellen and Portia begins to buckle under the pressure of her baby carrying form and she catches herself before making a public display of emotion. Sue gently jumps from her failing human pyramid, curses at her baby hormones for making her weak, yells some 'sloppy baby' nonsense at Santana and Brittany and makes her dramatic exit.

When she's out of reach of the rainbow warriors Sue takes a quick peek at the watch hidden in the sleeve of her tracksuit, a little trick she picked up during her stint with the CIA in Russia.

Time check: Twenty three hours and four minutes remaining.


	3. Perfection

Authors Note:  
Sorry for the delay, but I got so distracted by everything awesome that happened in Prom-osorous. Anyway here we go again! Please review!

Next chapter (unless you've had enough at my attempt of Faberry!): Dealing with the 'Finn' issue, some plans for the future and a very frank conversation with the Mr. Berries.

Chapter Three: Perfection

I'm pacing back and forth in the foyer of my house. My hands are twisting together, itching in displeasure by not having her within my reach.

I'm waiting for her.

I glance at the wall clock ticking by my precious time and realise that I've been away from her for fifteen minutes. I'm missing her already. I can still feel her hands on me from earlier in the choir room. I had whispered in her ear that I wanted to spend the night with her. She had turned a pretty pink, ducked her head and immediately mumbled a shy 'yes.'

I made no attempt to undo my innuendo. Mostly because it was the truth. Plain and simple. I want Quinn Fabray. I want her more than Tony's, more that Grammy's...hell I need on that woman even more that I want to sing alongside the great Barbra Streisand.

Quinn Fabray trumps Barbra without contest.

And now here I am. Waiting for her. She needed to get some things from home. I didn't want to leave her. But she had looked at me so shyly and husked that she 'needed a few minutes to pull herself together.' Then she had pecked me on the cheek and driven off.

I flick my gaze to the clock again. Now it's been sixteen minutes. I huff and turn on my heel to start pacing again when I hear it.

_Knock. Knock._

It's hard and abrasive. That's not Quinn.

I huff and swing the door open anyway. Yup, I was right. Definitely not Quinn.

"We've got some talking to do Berry." She pushes past me with her shoulders held stiff. She exudes bravado like Finn's offensive use of ox deodorant for men. I would have been scared if I hadn't grown to love this woman over the nine days we spent mourning Quinn. She had been my best friend.

"Santana." I whisper it reverently. I didn't think seeing her would be this difficult. I have been so absorbed by my Quinn-induced-haze that seeing this version of Santana has caught me off guard.

"Bedroom Berry. I don't need the Mr. Berries hearing what I have to say to you."

"They're not home." I search her body up and down. Looking for any trace of my Santana, the beautiful person that had cared for me when no one else knew how. I used to see it in her stance, her eyes, the way her shoulders had quivered, how she cried, how her shaking hands had found mine when we spent lunches in the auditorium. Now she was gone.

"Bedroom anyway. I'm not doing this shit out in the open." Her voice was sharp and commanding. The soft and rich tenor that I had been accustomed to was gone.

"Fine." I snap at her slightly and see a flicker of surprise dance over her face.

I hope for more, but when she glares at me I drop my head. This is definitely not my Santana. And then I'm leading her upstairs, down the hall way and swinging my bedroom door shut behind her.

"It's Quinn." She has my attention immediately. The last time I heard those words Quinn was already dead. I feel my knees begin to buckle and quickly escort myself to the edge of my bed.

"Okay?"

"She called me before."

"Okay?" I don't know how to deal with this version of the Latina so I figure the less I give her the better. She looks at me like I'm crazy.

It occurs to me for a millisecond that maybe I am.

"Christ Berry. The one time I actually wanna talk to your talent-ridden face and your pint sized ass clams up on me like Sylvester does with Black Sue. That shit 'aint ganna fly short stack." She's panting slightly and looking concerned for me.

I learned what concerned looked like on Santana's face the moment Sue had uttered Quinn's name. She was in front of my crumpled form in seconds. She didn't leave my side while we sat in silence at the hospital. And she gripped my hand when the doctors told us that they 'did everything they could.'

Maybe a little piece of my best friend was still in there somewhere.

"Fine San. Talk."

"What did you just call me?"

"You heard. If we're having this conversation then we're doing it as friends." Santana had warmed up to this version of me after we lost Quinn. I only hope that she has the same reaction this time round.

"Ballsy. I could certainly get on board with this Rachel." She shoots a cheeky grin my way and I sigh with relief.

"So Quinn called? What does this have to do with me?"

"Um...let's see Rachel. You maul her with a bear hug. You cry in her arms. You nuzzle into her neck and whisper in her ear. I'd say that her calling me has everything to do with you." I nod again and wait for her to keep talking.

"She cried when she called me –" I shoot her a glance and go to interrupt her but she holds up her hand. I still fear the wrath Snix so I back down and let her keep talking.

"She cried so hard that she had to pull over her car, Rachel. She said that she's so scared about what's happening between you two but she can't get herself to care. That as long as she has you, even if it's for one night, then she can die a happy woman –" I lock my jaw together and fix my eyes in a stare. I figure that as long as I don't blink then my tears won't fall.

"She said that you move her. That she's never been so deeply touched by something as simple as holding you. You could break her Rachel. So easily...it makes me scared for Quinn. I don't think you realise what you're getting yourself into because that woman wants to have your ridiculously talented babies and put a ring on your finger –" My only though is that Quinn won't live long enough to have our ridiculously talented babies.

"So if you're just in this...for whatever. Then please break her now before she falls too deep." I flick my gaze across Santana's face. She looks torn between beating me up and comforting me. Which means that I must look like a mess.

I glance around my room and try to forget everything Santana just said. I never realised how much Quinn had felt. How much she was capable of feeling. How beautifully she felt. It makes my shoulders crumble inward and I see tears splattering against my bare thighs. The amount of tears that I have shed over this woman will never be enough.

I jump when I feel arms wrap around me. I had forgotten about Santana.

"Talk Rachel. Please. I can't make sense of any of this and it scares me." And in amongst the self-hatred swirling in my head and the tears on my skin I find my Santana.

"She's it for me, San." I hear Santana gasp slightly. She obviously wasn't expecting that.

"I want that woman more than NYADA and more that Broadway. Dreams are never fun when you don't have someone to dream with." I feel her nod. She gets it.

"But if I lose her...when I lose her. I'll be done." I whisper my confession with such surety that even I'm slightly taken aback.

"You won't lose her Rachel." I wanted to whisper that I already had but I couldn't break the news to Santana like this.

"But I will San." I hit her with a stare and she shrinks back. Then she gets angry. I can see the rage flickering to life and she launches herself from my bed.

"Fuck, so that's it then! Just because you're scared you could lose her you're ganna go running for the hills! I never pictured you for the gay-panic type Berry!" She screams at me, throws her hands in the air and gets up in my face.

My room is still. The venom that Santana had spat at me lurks within my four walls as I take in the shaking form of my friend. She's so scared of the damage both Quinn and I could cause. I can't blame her for being angry.

"You're not listening, San." My words are soft and grab her attention.

"I'm in love with that woman. And I know I'm going to lose her. But I'm going to spend every moment by her side until I do." I see a tear slip down Santana's cheek and watch realisation spread across her face.

"You're serious?"

"Completely." I watch my friend sink onto the bed beside me. She doesn't seem to be able to wrap her head around what I've just confessed.

"Can I ask you something, San?"

"Sure."

"If you only had one day left...what would you do?"

"Holy shit. Are you dying?"

"No San. Answer my question." I watch her features constrict as she ponders what I asked and what I see comes as no surprise.

"She's your Brittany." I nod. Santana gets it.

"Look after her." She whispers it to the silence in my room and I take her hand and nod. We sit together in silence after that, neither of us really knowing what to say.

* * *

I'm not sure how long I've been sitting here with Santana but at some point she took my hand and I stopped caring. That's until I hear the arrival of Quinn.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

It's soft and gentle and I bolt from my bed and all but throw myself down the stairs. I glance at the clock before I open the door and note that I've been without her for thirty six minutes. Far too long!

"Hi Rachel." Her voice husks out the end of my name and melts me on the spot. After my talk with Santana I feel no restraint in my need for Quinn and launch myself into her arms.

She hums into my neck and grabs fistfuls of fabric along my back. I feel her mouth run against the column of my throat and I all but quiver in her arms. She's surrendering to a passion that she's kept in check for too long and I revel in it.

"God Rachel."

Her hands run up and down my back and curl at my hips. She grips at them fiercely. Like she trying to grapple with everything she's feeling. Her chest is heaving against mine and her lips push out to make blissful contact with my collar bone.

"I know Quinn. I know."

Her shoulders shudder under my hands as she tries to hunch further into me. She lets her hands fall to my lower back. They reach between my skirt and t-shirt and burrow in further. I gasp as I feel her soft touch against my bare flesh. She husks a mumbled string of words into my neck and start running her hands up and down my bare back.

I work to push my body into her and her chest meets me half way. I'm coming undone with her in my arms and I haven't even felt her lips against mine yet. I'm not even embarrassed.

"Fuck Rachel. I am so wet." My chest heaves and she grabs at my shoulder blades with splayed hands. It's glorious.

My hands fist her hair as I pull her face from my neck rather harshly. Her eyes have rolled back in unadulterated pleasure. She must like it rough and I groan instantly at the thought. My groan gets her attention and her eyes snap open to drink me in. Blazing in all their hazel glory I know that I am about to be owed by Quinn Fabray's tongue. Then I hear a throat clear and Quinn's plump lips are getting further away rather than getting closer.

Fucking Santana.

"San. What are you doing here?" Quinn's hands slipped from underneath my shirt slowly as we both move inside my front door to face Santana. She keeps a possessive hold on my waist and I can't help but feel a throb ripple through me.

She flicks her gaze between me and Santana and puts the pieces together herself. Her mind is flawless.

"Tell me you didn't Santana." I feel Quinn take a step forward and I tense the hold I have on her waist in an effort to reassure her. She melts into me partially but flicks a glare in Santana's direction.

"You had no right, S." Her blond hair falls around her face as she dips it in shame. I want to whisper words of comfort in her ear but this is Santana's mess to clean up. So I just settle for rubbing my thumb back and forth against her hip bone.

"Somebody had too, Q." That seemed to resonate with Quinn as she picks her gaze up from the ground. I watch them share a soft smile as Santana moves forward to take Quinn's face between her hands.

"Te amo mucho, mi hermana." And then she places a gentle kiss on her cheek and moves towards the door. Santana amazed me in that moment. She had treated me with such delicacy during our nine days of torture so seeing it practised on Quinn was slightly breath-taking.

"Te amo tambien, Santana." Quinn whispered to her friends back. Santana's shoulders crumbled inward, Quinn's words meant the world to her.

Also, Quinn speaking Spanish: mucho sexy!

"I'm ganna tell B, Q. She always told me that Faberry was on so I think she deserves to know."

"Sure San." Her back is still facing us as she nods a final time and walks out the door. She flings the door back with a snap of her wrist and she's gone. Probably to go be with Brittany, it pulls a gentle smile to my lips as I turn to loop both of my arms around Quinn's neck.

"Hi."

"Hi yourself." Her words dance over my lips. It's like I can almost taste them for myself.

She pulls her hands tightly around my waist and grips on again. Her forehead falls to touch mine and her eyes droop shut. A small smile creates creases around her lips. I'm so close to her face that I can see every smile line she has ever smiled. And then she begins to gently sway us on the spot.

Our first dance.

My breath is stolen from me. By this tiny gesture of romance I have become hers without reservation. She can have me. I won't work without her after this moment. I know she knows this as she begins to guide me around my foyer with bravado. She's stealing everything I am and making it her own. I wouldn't stop her even if I could.

"Quinn." She hums against my ear in reply and I shudder into her. Then she giggles and it's the most lyrical sound I've ever heard. Symphonies should be made with that sound.

"You are beyond words, Quinn." I whisper it softly and she brings our dance to a slow stop and moves her hand to stroke my cheek reverently.

"And you're all the words I've never dreamed of saying. But I'm not scared anymore Rachel. I want this – you. So much. So I'll say the words if you let me –" I watch her pause as she gathers every ounce of courage she has.

"If you want me?" Her voice is husky. She's laying all her cards on the table and I have never felt so unworthy of this woman's love. But I'm no fool. I'm Rachel Berry and I have one day to make this goddess mine. That's not something I'd ever give up.

No words could express how desperately and fiercely I wanted the woman standing in front of me. So I do the only logical thing that comes to my mind. I close the gap between our lips and taste Quinn for the first time.

Finally.

She fists my shirt in surprise and I push my body further into her. She stumbles slightly until she's titling her head and meshing our lips together like they were always meant to. I feel her lips vibrate as she moans gently. And then several thinks happen all at once and I'm done for.

I gasp into her mouth and her tongue meets mine in a frenzy that has my thighs clenching together on instinct. She's wild and passionate and so utterly consuming that I simply open myself up to her and let her do as she pleases. Her teeth nip at my bottom lip, her mouth sucks on my tongue and her hands race to find my skin. They claw at my back and dip around my sides to tease the part of my body where skin meets bra.

I throw my head back when she presses me up against the door. She's unforgiving against my neck; nipping, licking, sucking at any skin she can find. She moans against me when she shifts her legs so that her core is pressed against my thigh. I can feel how hot she is for me through her jeans.

"Fuck Quinn. I can feel you."

That just spurs her on. She bites down on my neck with such a guttural moan. She has me throbbing beneath her and my need to have her hands on me multiplies exponentially. Her hands move to cup my breasts and I meet her by arching my back off the door. She thrusts against me when she feels my raised nipples. She has no constraint left. I can feel her self control evaporating with each thumb stroke she delivers to my pebbled nipples.

"Ohh fuuuuuuck. Rach." She pops the 'k' and sobs my name. I can feel her wetting my thigh...through her denim. She's so beyond worked up. She's panting against me, chest heaving, cheeks flushes, eyes a stormy hazel. It's beyond sexy but my lady needs to cum. And cum she will.

"Suck me baby." She looks up at me from her place in my neck. She looks startled at first but then she becomes a woman possessed, her primal need ripping through her when she understands what I am offering her.

My shirt falls to a heap on the ground. Followed by my bra. Then she is descending me, sucking at my flesh, licking and stroking with her tongue to the point where I am almost seeing stars.

She takes my nipples slowly. It's the most excruciating pleasure I've ever felt. She's savouring this moment. I can feel her making love to my breasts. She's gentle until she's not. Then I'm pinned against the door and being tortured viciously. My nipples are painfully erect. She's a goddess and I feel a throb shake my thighs. I need more of her touching me and I groan is an effort to push her head further down my body. But then her moans cry out above mine. She's painfully searching for release and I can see tears glistening in those hazel eyes I love so much.

I pull her body close to me so that her head is nuzzling my neck. Her hands find my breast's like it's already a habit and I feel her body humming against me. She's quivering in her need and thrusting gently against me, trying to find some kind of release.

I slip my sturdy thigh against her legs and push at her shoulders until her core connects with my skin with a gentle thud.

"Ohhh fuuuuck." She needs me and I'm happy to give. I pull her to me and feel her rub against me. It's delicious.

"Ride me, Quinn." She sobs into my neck. A combination of need and embarrassment. She burrows deeper into me and digs her fingers into my bare back. She's trying to restrain herself so I start rocking my thigh against the dampness of her jeans.

"Raaaachel." I rock against her again and she meets me with a soft thrust. I let my hands fall to her ass and I pull her in tight. She quivers and thrusts again.

"Again." Her voice is dripping in sex and it drenches my panties to the point of embarrassment. I pull her into me again and she finally lets her restraint drop away.

"Cum for me, Quinn." My words make her gasp. She fucks herself hard against my thigh and her thigh finds my wetness. We fuck against the door with vigour. Panting into each other mouths. Feeling tears leaking down my cheeks, or they might be hers.

I lose control when she whispers 'fuck me' into my mouth. We come undone against each other. She shakes and I seize. We cry out each other's name and feel a heavenly nectar coat our thighs. I sink to the floor when I feel her circle her arms around me. We lay together, coated in a light sheen and basking in the scent of each other.

I found the meaning of perfection in that moment with Quinn. Existing as two people who found love in a bundle of limbs, clinging to each other on the floor.

* * *

Time Check: Twenty one hours, fifty eight minutes remaining.


	4. Heaven on Earth

**Authors Note:** **Loving being apart of**** the Faberry Fandom! And after being well and truly reprimanded (thank you _anonythemouse_), instead of asking whether you guys want more updates I'll just leave you with an idea of whats to come in the next chapter! :)  
**

**Next Chapter: Rachel discovers Quinn's love for photography, Santana makes a re-appearance and Sue struggles to make the most of her time.  
**

Chapter Four: Heaven on Earth

Heaven on earth.

It's a funny concept to consider really. I always thought it to be one of those throw away clichés that you see in hallmark cards or bad rom-coms. I'm a hopeless romantic, don't get me wrong, but I'm not naive.

Then I lived in my very own hell on earth. So now I figure it's only fair that there's a literal heaven out there somewhere. If there's not, well, there's no hope for me after my twenty four hours with Quinn expires.

But in this moment. Right now. I've found my heaven.

Curled up in Quinn Fabray's gentle arms (and her legs too), I can safely say that I have my version of Eden.

I can feel her pulse dancing against my fingertips. I can hear her delicious heartbeat echoing in my eardrum. I would happily go deaf listening to the glorious beat that keeps her alive.

She had scooped me up off the ground not too long ago. Lifting me from our huddled mess and carrying me like her newly wedded bride until she had found my bedroom. Then she had laid me down with such delicacy, such tenderness. She had brushed a runaway hair off of my face and taken me into her arms.

Clothes had been forgotten. Well my clothes anyway. She hadn't bothered to hand me back my bra and shirt and I didn't care to ask for it.

Being this exposed to another human-being would usually have me cowering away like a small child – I've always had an issue with my body image. But with Quinn it's different. It's always been different with her. She's mine and I'm hers.

So letting her see me like this, so without care and restraint. Well...it feels like singing. Like when I sing in front of crowds of people. It's liberating.

"Rachel?" So husky and beautiful.

"Hmm." I flex my hold on her body.

"I'm sorry about what ever Santana said. She had no right and –" I tighten my legs against hers to make her stop.

"She loves you sweetie. Don't apologize for that." I get a gentle rub of her thumb against my back and I purr into her neck.

"Was it bad?"

"Not at all Quinn. You satisfied me –"

"Rachel!" I'm reprimanded with a tight body squeeze and her childish giggles. Hardly a punishment.

"She was perfect actually. She gets it Quinn. You're my Brittany." I say it quietly. Knowing my confession will make this more concrete for Quinn. I feel her stiffen under me. Then...

Silence.

She rolls me slowly onto my back until she's hovering over me. A pink dusting sprinkles down her neck. Her hazel eyes glisten with the unsaid love sonnets of her favourite poets. Her throat convulses as she seeks the words she cherishes so dearly. This has got to be the eighth wonder of the world.

"You mean that?" She's so timid. She's so unsure and it steals away another piece of my already fragmented heart.

"I have never been more certain." I feel like it's not enough. But on such short notice, it's the best sentence I can strangle together.

She ducks her head onto my bare chest. It's an awkward angle so I kick her leg, or was that my leg? It's hard to tell whose is whose at this point. I kick out again and this time she rolls her entire body onto mine. Heavenly.

She lays her hand flat against my chest and splays her fingers out possessively. I puff out my chest at the sight. She ducks her head and rests her chin upon her outstretched hand. It's adorable. In that moment she reminds me of a child. Seeking comfort from something as organic as skin on skin. It's refreshing.

"I'm not used to being loved like this." Her words are soft. Honest, painfully so.

"Like how?" She doesn't want hollow comfort from me. We are more than that. She just wants to talk without the fear of being judged.

"So - without restraint. Or - or without any judgement. It's - I've never - it's just there." I watch her eyebrows quirk upon her little epiphany. I wait.

"You just do. Because you don't know how not to. It's – this is foreign to me." She lets out a breath and turns her head to the side.

Seeing Quinn Fabray nestled between my breasts is certainly a sight to behold. I run my hand through her hair. Just to remind her that I'm here and that I'm listening.

"What if I'm not good at it?" That strikes something in me. My eyes shoot open and I tug gently on those golden locks. Her eyes slowly travel up my body until they reach my own.

"What did you just say?" She looks embarrassed.

"What if I'm not good at loving you?"

Silence.

I'm stunned. Well and truly baffled. This beautifully broken woman seriously doubts her ability to love. What kind of malicious bastards have made her feel like this? Who would put that kind of toxic thinking into her beautiful head? I swear to god – _sniff._

That snaps up my attention. Tears are slowly dripping onto my chest. I would have taken a moment to revel in this beautiful display of intimacy but my baby just looks so hurt. I've never seen her look so small and afraid. Not even in the hallway after I had revealed Beth's true paternity.

"Oh honey." I pull at her hips and she all but scrambles to move up my body.

"You look at me, Lucy Quinn." So does so dutifully.

"You loved Beth enough to give her a better life. You loved Noah enough not to make him a daddy. You love Santana and Brittany so fiercely. Even Sue, she's so special to you. And you've being loving me since freshman year. You love so perfectly Quinn. It's so special." I pull her face closer until her forehead is resting against mine.

"You're love is soft and gentle but always...always present Quinn. It makes me feel so beautiful. So absolutely cherished." I pull her into a soft yet slightly demanding kiss. She burrows into me, clawing at my skin slightly.

I pull away gently when I taste an onslaught of salt. She's still crying. With such grace and poise. I've never found her more beautiful. In all her imperfections and deepest fears I find a woman so selfless and so loving that it's almost difficult to comprehend.

I grab her by the chin and force eye contact again.

"Okay?" I need conformation that I got through to her.

She takes her time pondering my question but then her lips are pressed gently against mine. I feel her breathy 'okay' more than I hear it, which is just fine by me.

* * *

We've been basking in silence for a while now. I can feel her muscles twitching against my body and I just know that she's dying to say something. I know that we kind of got ahead of ourselves down stairs but I'm starting to think that maybe she's having regrets?

I turn my head slightly to the left and catch sight of my bedside alarm clock. I hate clock-watching in general but my situation sort of demands it of me. It reads 7.42pm. _Christ._ That means my dads are ganna be home soon and we've being laying up here for almost two hours. I didn't even realise.

I'm wasting away my time with her.

I only have twenty four hours and I'm lying here like I don't give a shit.

I'm letting her fidget about something that's obviously bothering her and not doing anything about it.

_Fuck._

Santana's going to kill me. That thought resonates with me somehow and I look down to the beautiful woman wrapped around me. She's still fidgeting. That simply won't do.

"Quinn."

"Hmm." She burrows in deeper into my chest.

"Sweetie, if there's something on your mind then you can talk to me about it." I feel her fingers rubbing gentle circles around my navel. Like she's trying to distract herself from what she wants to say.

"There is." Her breathy words spill out against my skin. I wait for more.

"I just don't wanna break this spell Rach. This is so perfect and I just don't wanna ruin it."

"Impossible."

"Promise?" She dips her finger into my belly-button and my breath hitches. I feel her smirk against me and can't help but draw her gaze up to mine.

"I promise. Now tell me what's going on in that beautiful head of yours." She blushes at my words. I'll never get tired of causing the soft pink haze that runs across her cheeks.

"It's about Finn, Rach."

Gross. So not what I was expecting.

"Argh Gross. What about him?" I feel my face sneer at the mention of his name. Looks like I still hate him – no surprise really. A part of me will forever harbour a deep resentment for the boy.

"Don't mock me Rachel." I feel the coldness in Quinn's voice and watch in shock as she shifts away from me. The surprise is obviously evident on my face.

"You know, Finn? The tall, dopey, man child you're in love with. Your fiancé! Ringing any bells yet Rachel?" I watch in shock. Shit. _Fiancé_. Forgot about that.

Quinn's furious. She had jumped away from her place on top of me like I had burned her skin. Now she's pacing back and forth across my room in a flurry. She's breathing heavily and her cheeks are flushed with an angry pink. Her hands are flailing all over the place and messing up her hair. Her hazel glare is nothing short of wild. I would've thought she was incredibly sexy if I didn't notice how scared she seemed. She's radiating so much fear and it makes my heart ache for her.

I had fully forgotten that Finn existed. The moment I had seen Quinn alive and in front of me nothing else had mattered. The fact that I still had a fiancé was the last thought on my mind.

"Quinn –"

"I mean what is this Rachel? Some last minute fling before you march down the aisle? Because I swear to god I will castrate him before I watch you marry Finn Hudson." Tears are spilling down her cheeks. I don't even think she's noticed yet.

She takes a moment to collect herself before turning to face me again.

"Rachel –" She walks to where I am now perched on the edge of my bed.

She sinks to her knees and slips between my dangling legs. Her hands grasp for my hips. She pulls me roughly, harshly, until I am flushed against her stomach. My breath hitches on instinct. She runs her hands up my bare sides and nuzzles her head into my breasts. I feel her tongue flick out against my nipple and then it's gone.

"Rachel –" Her voice is thick. Husky again. I snap my neck down to meet her gaze.

"If this is a one night thing. Then tell me now so I can be prepared for tomorrow." A silent tear stretches down her cheek. I catch it with my thumb as my shoulders convulse with a quiet sob.

How does she not know what she means to me?

She means everything to me. _Everything._

"Quinn –" I grab her face and pull her closer. I feel her body jerk into me. Her hands are clawing at my shoulder blades. She's greedy for my flesh and I adore it.

"You are not a one night thing. You're _everything_ –" Her breath hitches.

"Finn Hudson is _nothing_ as far as I'm concerned. My ridiculous engagement to him will be reduced to nothing more than an embarrassing snippet in a future biography of Rachel Berry: The Making of a Star." I watch Quinn chuckle into my hand. Her cheeks burst into a full-blown smile that she reserves just for me.

"You mean that?"

"Completely. But as for the fiancé thing –" I watch her eyes widen with apprehension. So naturally I pause for dramatic effect – I am still Rachel Berry after all.

"I'll reserve that honour for you. If you ever want it that is?" I smile at her cheekily despite the fact that I'm being completely honest. Her eyes widen again, this time with hope.

"You mean that?"

"Completely." She chuckles at our lame occurrence of de-ja-vu. I watch her chuckle turn into a soft smile and then into a gentle lip bite. She's processing everything I've just said. I sit patiently and give her a moment to find the right words.

"I applied to NYU as well." Wait. What? That's not...what?

"What?"

"I got accepted too." I see what she's doing.

She's planning our future.

Laying out a map of our lives in front of me. I can see it already: living together in New York, following our dreams, supporting each other, getting married, having babies, growing old together. It's a glorious picture she's painting. A future I know she'll never live. It makes my chin wobble instantly. Tears are falling before I know it. But when I look down into her hopeful eyes I know I can't deny her.

I'll promise her a happily ever after. This woman deserves to know true happiness. It's the least I can give her, even though I know she's got just over a week to live. My shoulders sob and I force a heavy breath through my body. I will find the strength to do this.

"Quinn –" My voice is chocking on me.

"I know Rach. But if we're doing this – like _really_ doing this...then I need to be with you. Not seventy something miles away in New Haven."

"But Quinn. Yale – it's your dream." My sentences are disjointed and she chuckles to herself slightly.

"You're my dream Rachel." I know I'm shaking when I feel Quinn rubbing soothing circles along my back.

"I can study English anywhere. But you're meant for Broadway and New York and I would be so completely honoured to share that with you." God. This woman! My chest heaves again.

"You'd move to New York for me?"

"In a heartbeat." And then I forget.

I forget about my expiring time and about Sue Sylvester and Finn 'fucking' Hudson and car crashes and I just see Quinn. Quinn and all she is. So I do the only reasonable thing that comes to my mind. I wrap my legs around her. Pull her close. And attack her lips in a kiss that promises nothing but a doomed future.

She moans against me. It's feral and passionate and I love it. Her nails claw down my bare back and grab roughly at my hips. She's fierce and I know immediately that I'm about to be fucked somewhat savagely.

She pushes up from her position on floor and throws me back against my bed by grabbing at my legs. She throws her body against mine in a delicious haze of lust. She bites along my collar bone without apology and I can only fist at her hair. Her rugged voice growls 'up' and I lift my hips so that she can do away with my skirt and panties. I lay myself bare for her.

She wastes no time in cupping my bare mound. She moans into my mouth and nips at my lips. My hands find the hem of her shirt. Her hand is ripped from my sex as I tear her shirt from her body. Her bra is gone a split second later. I pull her body to mine and we groan as our breasts clash in harmony together.

"Fuck Quinn." She groans back and grinds against.

I let my hands fall to the buttons of her jeans and make quick work of the zip. Ready to push the denim and delicate lace of panties away from her skin, I feel a penetrating suck against my neck. It rocks my body off the bed and my hands fly to Quinn's back.

She grabs at my arms and forces them into the mattress. She's delicate and direct with me all at once. She grips her nails into my wrists. Holding me in place. Then she thrusts into me. Hard. Fiercely. I buck into her. She moves her hips in delicious circles and coaxes me into the same rhythm. I feel my body arching into her bare chest. She bites at my ear lobe to get my attention.

"Now let me fuck you baby." It's the first time she's called me by a pet-name. But I can't bring myself to care because I am _soaked_ for her.

Her voice is husky. Dripping with sex. I clench my thighs at her tone. Her demand has me shivering. I can feel my wet heat sinking into the sheets.

"Ohhh Qu-Quinnnn." She pushes my wrists deeper into the mattress. Thrusting against me again. She wants my permission.

"Fuck me Quinn. Plea-please." She nips my ear lobe again and shifts her hips to make room for her hand.

She finds my clit like it was made for her. I like to think that it was. She's ruthless in her attack. Working me up with deep circles until I'm about to topple over the edge. She slows and dips her finger through the abundance of wetness waiting for her.

"Sooooo wet." Her words send a ripple through me. She hums in recognition.

"You like that baby?" I answer her with a nip of my teeth to her shoulder.

"I can't wait to be inside you –" Her fingers circle my entrance. I buck against her in desperation.

"To feel how tight and hot you are for me –" She dips her finger in slightly.

"To have your walls tighten against me –" I feel one slender finger press into me. Deep. So so incredibly deep.

"God you feel good. Just wait until I start fucking you baby. Till I stretch you just a little bit more –" She retracts her entire finger. I groan in frustration. Then without warning she buries herself in me. Her finger width has doubled and I scream against her neck.

"So so tight. I bet I can make you tighter –" Her fingers flick out inside me. Pressing against the ridges in my walls. I quiver against her. I'm at her mercy. And then she's moving in and out. Slowly. The pleasure is excruciating.

"I'm ganna fuck you until you scream my name Rach –" She thrusts in deeper. She's pumping into me harder. Faster. With more force. My legs are quivering around her waist. I can hear my whispered 'fucks' and 'harder's' swirling around me.

"Your ganna see stars baby. Fuck your tight –" I clench around her. I hear the words 'I'm so close Quinn,' but they don't feel like mine. I'm falling into a Quinn-stupor.

"You're getting close aren't you? Cum for me. Clamp around me and scream my name –" The loud slap of her hand against my sex vibrates up my body. Her fingers can barely move I'm so tight.

"Cum for me –" Her fingers thrust deep and find my trigger. I drench her fingers and hold them captive. I feel my back arch of the bed. Her name rips from my lungs. My legs are quivering as my hips fly into frenzy against her fingers.

I briefly note that she shudders on top of me until I slip into a welcoming oblivion.

Stars like I have never seen surround me.

Whispers of love float over me.

A fullness I've never known slowly slips away.

And then I'm blinking back to life and her hazel eyes are waiting for me.

Her thumbs are ghosting down my cheeks. I feel the wetness there but don't fully register that they're my tears. Then I'm smiling up at Quinn and she's grinning back. She looks rather smug with herself – and for good reason too. This woman is a goddess in bed!

"There you are." I blush and nod. I'm rewarded with a gentle brush of her lips.

"I'll take that as a yes then?"

"Huh?"

"You. Me. New York." I smile and capture her lips again.

"I wouldn't want it any other way." I'm about to be rewarded with another kiss until...

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

"Rachel darling. Family meeting in five. Bring Quinn."

Oh. My. Barbra.

Stupid cock-blocking Dads.

I feel Quinn's forehead smack against my collar bone. I hear a muffled 'this cannot be happening' and then she's off me and dancing around the room in a rush to get dressed. I lean against my headboard and watch on in amusement. She trips over herself as she tries to button her jeans and put on her shirt at the same time. I laugh out loud – I can't help it. She looks adorable.

"Why are you laughing? You parents just heard us having sex – sex Rachel! Fuck. They're ganna kill me –"

"Quinn don't be silly. They've only been home for –" I quickly glance at my bedside clock. It reads 8.20pm. Shit.

"Oh they've been home for twenty minutes. So yes they heard us having sex but my rooms partially sound-proof so they just would've heard me screaming your name and –"

"Partially sound proof! Fuck! Rachel. I'm so dead. This is –"

"Really Quinn this isn't a big deal. We'll just have a frank and honest discussion with my dads and that will be it." I glance in Quinn's direction as I finally find my skirt. She looks...well scared shitless.

"Look sweetie. My parents aren't like yours okay? My dads are open to sexuality, obviously, and they respect that a healthy relationship involves sex. I also suspect that they'll take to you quiet fondly because you're not Finn." I shoot her a cheeky grin and am rewarded with a Quinn Fabray smirk.

I move towards my door and open it gently. I can hear my dads moving around down stairs, probably making coffee and vegan hot chocolate that had become a tradition during Berry family meetings. I turn to look at Quinn and see that she's more at ease. I reach out my hand and watch as she walks forward to take it proudly. Then she presses a kiss to my cheek and leads the way down to my kitchen.

* * *

"Dads?" I call the attention of my father's as Quinn and I make our grand entrance. Fingers intertwined.

"Ah you finally grace us with your presence." I see my dads share a quiet giggle and move to take a seat at the kitchen table. I pull Quinn along to do the same.

"Good to see you again Quinn." I feel her tense against me. I squeeze her had gently as we both take a seat.

"You too Mr Berry." She extends her hand for my daddy to shake. So chivalrous.

"Ah-uh Quinn. Not too sure where that's been." My daddy chuckles at his joke and my dad swats at him gently. I duck my head with a smirk and Quinn turns a pretty shade of pink.

"And none of that Mr. Berry stuff Quinn. He's my father in law and quite frankly he scares the shit out of me. So it's Leroy and Hiram to you okay." My daddy is smiling gently, his dark skin highlighting his smile lines. Quinn nods and mumbles a 'yes Leroy,' then ducks her head again.

"So when did all this happen?" My dad, ever the articulate one, waves his hands between Quinn and me.

"What ever do you mean father?" I know I have a flare for the dramatic and my dads love me for it.

We always have appreciated humour in awkward situations. While my dads let out gentle chuckles I hear Quinn gasp. I'm reprimanded with her fingernails digging into the palms of my hand. She's blushing furiously so I figure I should make this conversation as painless as possible.

"Okay dads. Quinn and I love one another. We've always shared this intensely deep connection and it finally came into fruition this afternoon. So naturally our pent up sexual desires for –"

"Rachel!" She whispers it harshly in my direction.

"each other resulted in us making love. We intend to move to New York together –" that certainly gathered my dads attention.

"Quinn was accepted into NYU and Yale. She's decided to follow me to New York so that we can build a life together." I turn to look at Quinn. She's staring at me in awe, it makes me feel bulletproof.

"Questions?" I look to both my dads and wait patiently.

"You're willing to follow her to New York? To support her with Broadway and love her when she goes diva-crazy. Over Yale?" It's my dad that spoke up. He's looking directly at Quinn. Probing for some kind of fault that he won't find.

"I'd follow her anywhere Mr. Be – Hiram. I'm in love with your daughter because it's the most effortless thing I've ever known. So Yale could never really compare."

Silence.

Could she be more perfect? I'm only broken out of my Quinn-trance when I hear my daddy squeal. We all share hugs and I hear my dad whisper 'welcome to the family,' when he embraces Quinn. When I finally have her back at my side her hazel eyes are veiled with unshed tears. She whispers a 'thank you,' and I excuse us back up to my room.

As we leave I hear the voice of my daddy mumble 'good riddance Finn,' and then the distinct sound of a high-five. Quinn smiles, kisses my temple and murmurs 'your dads are so cool.' I think she's probably right.

Eventually we collapse onto my bed in a huddle of limbs. Her hands immediately seek out my skin and I move to cuddle into her. She nuzzles her lips into my hair and I close my eyes to revel in the feeling of been held by Quinn Fabray.

Yup. I was right.

She really is my heaven on earth.

* * *

I make a quick glance for my clock. 9.02pm. I'm running out of time.

Time check: Eighteen hours and fifty eight minutes remaining.


	5. My Constant

**Hello my beautiful readers! I apologize for my awful updating, I always promised myself I would never be one of those writers that never updates...but life happens. My girlfriend...or should I say FIANCE proposed and whisked me off to Florence. I'm a lucky lady! But anyway I'm back and I hope you enjoy!  
**

**Next Chapter: The infamous 'morning after,' find out what craziness Sue and Santana were up to and Brittany helps Rachel phone home.**

Chapter Five: My Constant

Santana Lopez did not sign up for this shit when she joined the Cheerio's. She knew that Sylvester was all kinds of crazy, but this... this was one-flew-over-the-Cuckoo's-nest type shit.

Santana pulled her car up onto the side of the road. It was completely dark, completely isolated. No surprise considering it was 9.37pm. She took a quick look around and saw nothing of anything. There were corn fields for miles and a shitty back road into Lima that nobody used anymore. Real horror movie type shit.

Santana cut her engine and flicked her lights three times. Just like her nut-job coach had told her too. Then she slipped out of her car, locked it behind her and walked thirty paces. She came to a halt, cocked her hip and painted on the best scowl she could manage.

This was cutting into her lady-loving time with Britt's and she was not happy.

"I thought I told you stealth was key sandbags. Anyone could smell your disdain from a mile away." Santana knew that voice as if it were her own.

Spinning on the spot she came face to face with none other than Sue Sylvester. Kitted out in a full black tracksuit – of the leather variety, she looked like a reject from catwoman. Sporting two black stripes on each cheek and carrying what looked like blueprints of some of sort her cheerleading coach had never looked fiercer. Santana huffed; she was in for a hell of a long night.

"Nobody else is out here coach so I think were safe."

"That's what they want you to think S." Santana had no idea who her coach was talking about but she thought it would be best not to question her.

"Riiiiight... Sorry coach."

"I should think so. I didn't have seventeen African rhino's sleighed by illegal hunters in order to create this tracksuit for you to ruin it with your mediocrity."

Santana just nodded. Her coach was bat-shit crazy. It was that simple.

"Sooo...wanna tell me why were standing on some abandoned road out the back of Lima in the middle of the night?"

Santana briefly wondered if this was how she was ganna die. By the hand of a lunatic dressed in a leather tracksuit – Lady Hummel would have a field day. Sue had style, anyone who had met the women would admit that much, but homicide? Santana figured that was probably a tad farfetched for a pregnant woman. Or was it?

"We're ganna try fix it."

"Huh?" Santana was convinced. Sue had officially lost her marbles.

"You heard me number two. These baby hormones have made me susceptible to a whole range of human emotion. I tried to freeze them with Botox, but Joan Rivers sucked my supplier dry. I'm telling you, Oestrogen has a lot to answer for S – you'd do well to remember to that. But that's why we're here. We're putting a plan B into action in case Berrylicious doesn't pull through."

"Berry. What does she have to do with anything?"

Santana threw Sue a subtle glance but her coach gave nothing away.

"Everything." Sue's muttered response was drowned out by the low rumble of approaching traffic. Weird – no one ever uses this road.

A tank-type vehicle came to a halt in front Sue. Santana watched on as Becky jumped from the driver's seat, saluted Sue, muttered 'sandbags' in her direction and proceeded to the back of the vehicle. Sue murmured something about 'government edition,' patted the bonnet of her tank and moved to join Becky.

Santana huffed – yea because a tanks really subtle Sue – and moved to follow her coach, not knowing what to expect from her crazy coach and her diligent sidekick. Santana knew that anything was a possibility when Sue Sylvester was involved. And as she peered into the back of the truck Santana was not disappointed.

A small generator. Safety equipment. Infrared goggles. And three high-powered jackhammers.

Yup.

Santana Lopez was in for a loooooong night.

* * *

_Click. Click. Click_.

I felt her before I saw her.

I could still feel gentle tremors running through me. The way her soft touch of tongue swept over the most intimate place I could offer to her. I could feel those eyes raking over my naked body. I could remember her fingertips ghosting over my skin. My throat was still raw from screaming. My legs were still quivering.

I can feel her and that makes me smile like I've just won my first Tony. She's under my skin. It's like coming home, even though I've never left. It's so incredibly glorious.

_Click. Click._

Now that's odd. Crickets at this time of the year are unheard of.

_Click. Click._

Okay. Definitely not crickets. I fling my arms to the side. I want Quinn pressed against me – she'll make the noise stop.

_Click. Click. Click._

Okay. Quinn's not in bed with me. That's not okay. I huff slightly – looks like I'm going to have to open my eyes for this.

And then there she is.

Sexy bed hair: check. Cheeky smirk: check. An amazing hickey courtesy of yours truly: double check. And she's wearing nothing but one of my oversized wicked t-shirts – they never did have them in my size.

_Click._

And she's pointing a camera in my direction. In my very naked direction – holy shit!

"Quinn!" I scramble around for a blanket, a pillow, an ugly animal sweater – anything that will cover up my exposed body from her trigger happy camera clicking. I hear her quiet giggles float between our separate bodies and it calms me slightly.

When I finally have a sheet pulled up to my neck I level her with my best Rachel-Berry-glare. She giggles again and creeps closer towards the bed. She bends her knees to meet me at eye level and snaps one final photo. Then she's moving away and placing her camera reverently on my desk. It's like she knows her camera would be damaged if it was left within arm's reach of me – she's a smart women! I would be setting that thing on flames as soon as possible.

"Rachel." I feel the bed dip as her knees gently press into the side of my thighs. I huff at her closeness. I'm not mad and I don't feel violated – I just wasn't ready to be made a nudist by Quinn's inner artist.

"Honey? Come on. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I just – I..." She's lost her voice. I gently take her hands into my lap and intertwine our fingers. They're a beautiful mess or caramel and porcelain.

"I'm not mad Quinn. I honestly don't know what I am –" I've run out of words too. She shuffles closer towards me and dips her head. Her forehead is resting against my temple and I nuzzle into her gently. I wait quietly for her.

She lets her lips fall to the shell of my ear. I feel her soft breath tickle my skin. Like it's sweeping through my eardrum and rippling under my skin. I cling to her fingers a little harder and wait for her to speak.

"It seems that your eyelids have taken to flying: it seems that a kiss has sealed up your mouth...," her voice is a trembling whisper and...

Oh. My. Tony. She's reciting poetry for me.

"– since all these things are filled with my spirit, you come from things, filled with my spirit...," she nuzzles in further. Like she's scared of what she's going to say next. I hold my breath.

"You appear as my soul."

And my breath is gone, stolen away by her words. Then she kisses my ear and shuffles her body until her face is directly in front of mine.

"That's how I felt watching you sleep." Her eyes are radiating. I'm pretty sure mine are watering. I grab her by the scruff of her neck and bring her lips down upon mine. It's a hard kiss: skin pressing against skin in the most unforgiving manner.

"God you're amazing." I speak the words into her mouth and pant for breath. Then she starts talking again.

"It was like I had somehow breathed this new beauty into you. Or maybe I was just noticing it for the first time. I don't know – but I was so...so overwhelmed by us. By what I could do to you just by loving you..." She ruffles her hair and bites her lip. Stunning.

"You're rambling." My words are playful and I see a gentle smile tug at her lips.

"I am. It's very Berry-esque of me." She's not even embarrassed. She even looks proud of the fact. We share a quiet giggle and fall into a comfortable silence.

"I'm sorry I took the photo's Rachel. My sense abandoned me and –"

"Quinn. It's okay. I understand. You're mind works in such a beautiful way and I really cherish that about you. I just wasn't expecting it." I pull her towards me. I need more skin on skin contact.

I feel her lips press against my voice box. Bliss.

"They are really beautiful photo's Rachel."

"I suppose I'll just have to dedicate a section in my future biography as my brief time spent as a nudist then won't I." Quinn lets out a deep snort against my chest and dissolves into a not-so-gentle fit of giggles.

I watch her for a moment, memorising the feel of her smile against my skin and her exquisite beauty. Then she jabs at my bare ribs and I'm tumbling into an abyss filled with Quinn's boisterous laughter.

* * *

"You're turn." I rush the words out and twist my body to the left at the same time.

I just want to beat her one time – just once! I want to wipe that ridiculously sexy smirk off her face. I want to see her cheeks flush from frustration. To watch her bottom lip slip between her teeth, so deliciously plump. So if lashing my body around like a lunatic creates enough momentum for my thumb to gain the upper hand...then so-be-it.

"Stop cheating Rachel."

"I resent that. Rachel Berry does not cheat." I yank my body to the left again.

"Crack house. Vitamin D. Kurt's Campaign. Oh and Finn's wheelchair job." My jaw unhinges – and then several things happen at once.

I feel the pad of her thumb press down tightly against mine. She squeezes her hand to capture my fingers in an iron clad grasp. The she's husking out the words 'pee-nuckle-pee-nuckle one, two three.' A quirk of her lips stretches across her face and then her final salute of victory – the infamous eyebrow.

"I win." I watch her hazel eyes shine – really shine.

Sometimes I lose sight of the fire in Quinn. I know it's there, always, lurking shyly beneath her hazel barrier. But sometimes she's so afraid of...everything. It's like she's guarded on instinct. So watching her find joy in a simple game of 'pee-nuckle-pee-nuckle,' wearing nothing but my three-year-old wicked t-shirt is nothing short of breath taking. This woman glows and I adore that I can help her do that.

"Rach –" My eyelids flutter.

"Where did you go just now?" She reaches up her hand and gently cups my cheek.

"I just love that you glow for me." The words slip out before I can filter them. But as I watch Quinn duck her head and whisper my name like a prayer I regret nothing. She's radiating a pretty tinge of pink and I can literally feel myself swooning. I feel her growing shy so I quickly rack my brain for a swift subject change –

"How did you know I got Finn that wheelchair job?"

Quinn meets me with a soft gaze, it's loving and quiet and beautiful. So I send her a soft smile and wait for my answer.

"I just always have. Just like my gardenia at prom. When bribed Jacob with your panties so that he wouldn't spread my secret –" She sends me a raised eyebrow. I have the decency to duck my head, even though I'd do the exact same thing in a heartbeat if it meant protecting Quinn.

"– Even when I was too scared to tell the truth about Beth...you were there to keep me honest. And when you told me I'm much more than just my pretty face...you've always been there Rachel –" Quinn ruffles her hair gently and licks her lips.

"You've been my constant Rachel and that's kind of a big deal for me." I know she's referring to her dysfunctional family.

With her newly divorced mother, the pathetic father that Russell Fabray pretended to be and her ghost-like sister. I know all of this but I won't push Quinn for information. Her family is a sacred curse that she keeps hidden beneath the beautiful gold cross hanging around her neck. So instead I push my body tight against her. I kiss away two stray tears. I count the flecks of gold in her eyes and whisper what I hope to be healing words.

"You're a miracle Quinn." Her whole body shudders against me and I watch her crumble.

I watch as she breaks herself open and leaks out against my chest. Her scars, the ones not caused by crashing cars, lay exposed beneath my hands. She digs her finger nails into my skin and I hold back a hiss of pain. It's like she needs to know I'm real. She needs to know that I'm constant.

"I'm here Quinn. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere –" It's a gentle mantra that I play on repeat until I feel Quinn's trembling limbs relax in my arms.

I feel her gentle sigh of relief against my collarbone and I smile. We're learning to be constant together.

* * *

"First kiss?"

"Oooh that's a tough one." I huff against her beautifully toned stomach.

"How is that a tough question? Surely you must remember the first person you kissed." I feel her body shake beneath my head as she tries to suppress a giggle. So adorable.

"I remember...I'm just not sure if your ganna like my answer." That spikes my attention. I lift myself onto my elbows so I can look up into her smug face.

"Just tell me. I'm sure I'll still love you." I say it with a huff. I love this playful banter I share with her. It's like I've been lying nearly naked with her, playing twenty questions for my whole life.

"Promise?" She draws the word out into a husky purr which is so mouth-watering it makes my hand slip up her thigh subconsciously. When I feel her abs tense beneath me I catch myself and poke her in the thigh instead. I must know the answer for this question.

She clears her throat and wriggles her ass into the bed further.

"Santana." I frown. What does San have to do with Quinn's first – oh! I push myself fully from Quinn's body this time. I need space to process.

"You're first kiss was with Santana?" I feel a smile slipping onto my face.

"Yea and it was a long time ago Rach and I was just realising that –" I catch her worried face in my hands and plant a very generous kiss against her lips.

"It's okay sweetie. I can't be mad at you for the people you've kissed before this afternoon. If anything I find the idea of you and Santana making out incredibly hot." I hear her gasp. I can feel my gaze growing dark and watch as Quinn's skin radiates a pretty blush. I pull at her thighs until she crawls up my legs and settles in my lap.

My hands grip at her hips and I feel her press down into me. I hum in approval and watch as a smug look flashes across her face. Her hazel eyes have captivated me – swarming with a golden lust that I pray will always, _always_, burn for me. She thrusts into me again with those magnificent hips – the hips that have been beautifully curved by the birth of Beth. I feel her warm wet heat tease the flesh of my stomach and I claw at her shoulder blades. I have Quinn Fabray wet in my lap – heavenly.

"Rachel. Take me like this – _god_. Please." And I'm drenched.

The insides of my thighs are coated – so uncomfortably so that I have to spread my legs slightly. My movements only work to excite Quinn further. I can only watch as she all but tears my wicked t-shirt from her glorious form. And then she's naked. Naked – trusting into my lap. I feel myself clench and the drip. _Fuck._

"Baby. I _need_ you." Her husky alto makes me quiver and I just watch as she removes my t-shirt and licks her lips.

Then Quinn is pulling my head into her chest and I forget everything. My hands can't find a place to settle. I'm brushing my palms against her abs, against her ribs, against the taut muscles of her back, her glorious biceps. She's a goddess and my fingertips crave her perfection. I feel her writhe against me – her want for me spreads against my naval. I hear a heady 'Rachel' fall from her lips I'm done for.

Her nipple is erect and rosy and so very Quinn. I wrap my tongue around her and suck gently. I hear a throaty moan above me and feel hands pushing me tighter against her body. She tastes delicious, her flesh is alive in my mouth and I suck at her harder. Quinn rocks into me and I let my hips thrust back.

"Rach –" She chokes on my name with a moan. My teeth gently grind against her erect bud. Her body trembles gently and she claws at my back deliciously. I bite my teeth into the column of her neck and she trembles again. I let her flesh go and run my tongue over the red skin. My teeth run against her bare skin and she holds her breath. She knows I'm teasing her. But then she whispers the magic words.

"Rach – oh _god!_ Fu-fuck me Rachel." My hands grab at her ass and pull her tight against me.

"You're dripping Quinn." My words are murmured against her boobs and I lick at whatever skin I can.

My hands drift to her stomach. It shivers with anticipation – of what's to _cum. _Pun completely intended. My finger dips into her bellybutton and she stiffens. I gently poke in and out...in and out. She thrusts again. Her chest is glowing with a sweat, her brow is crumpled and her eyes are liquid bronze. She is the definition of sex.

My finger brushes against her clit and she jolts in my arms. I quickly lay my palm flat and let her get used to the sensitivity. When she begins to roll her hips into my hand I let her wetness soak me. I can smell her rich scent and I can't help but dip my finger deeper and then bring it to my lips.

This is the closest I will ever be to tasting the food of the gods.

I feel Quinn quiver again and my hand flies to where she most needs me. I waste no time. I'm two fingers deep and she struggles to take me. Quinn is so incredibly tight – when she clenches I can barely move. So I roll my hips into her until her thighs are pumping her up and down against my fingers. My eyes are glued. I can see her wetness dripping down my fingers. I can feel her heat, her tightness. I can feel her walls quiver when I flick my fingers in a scissoring motion or press against her ridges. I can feel her orgasm coming. Her moans are getting louder and her 'fucks,' and 'oh gods,' are becoming more breathy. Her thighs are quaking and her bottom lip is raw from her biting at it.

She pumps and seizes. Again and she throws her head back. Again and she's screaming. One more time and her whole body goes rigid. I feel her cum wrap around my fingers. Her walls are still holding me captive. I'm a happy prisoner.

When her golden eyes flicker open and catch mine I flick the fingers I still have buried deep inside her. She whispers my name in a half-hearted protest but as I thrust into her she bucks back. Her second orgasm sees her on her back. Slipping into oblivion.

As I crawl up beside her and nestle her into my chest I glance at my clock.

11.30pm. Time is my constant demon.

I feel a tear escape.

I'm going to lose her.

I have sixteen and a half hours left and then I'm done.

I feel asleep with Quinn that night (wrapped safely in my arms), wondering how I would ever sleep another night knowing that my constant wasn't going to be constant at all.

**Review? I think so!**


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